As Always, Lions and Serpents
by UndeniablyMe
Summary: A Malfoy can never be anything but an enemy; a Potter can be nothing but an attention seeking prick; a Weasley can never be more then just another red head. Can an unlikely friendship survive in a still healing world or is the hurt too deep to heal...?
1. Aboard the Hogwarts Express

**As Always, Lions and Serpents**

A Story by UndeniablyMe

**A/n: **What's this? Another new, multi-chapter, story in the Harry Potter fandom from me? Have I gone nuts?! Well, yes, and I'm not ashamed of it. :D And, actually, this is the 'most favorite' one I've started ever since _Forever and Ever… James, _and I hope you enjoy it just as much as I do.

But, to find that out, you gotta read. Which means I will see you at the bottom. So, without further ado, the story.

-UndeniablyMe ;)

* * *

**Chapter One: Aboard the Hogwarts Express**

Here it was, Rose Weasley's maiden voyage on the Hogwarts Express, and she was a shivering fit.

Once the excitement of the platform had left and her parents had been whisked away from her in one quick chugging of the train, the excitement at finally being on her own and going to Hogwarts had diminished and was replaced with cold terror. She settled into her seat across from her black haired, emerald eyed cousin, head spinning. This was really it. She was on her way to _Hogwarts_.

The scenery flashed by with dizzying speed, the Hogwarts Express twisting and turning like a large crimson snake throughout the passing fields and forests. Rose watched the neat little farms that slowly transitioned into a wild, dark, forest pass, her pale face, fervent blue eyes and bright crown of frizzy red hair standing out in contrast to the ever darkening scenery.

She replayed the scene from the platform in her head over and over again, thinking hard on her father's words and her mother's departing hug that left a smell of the perfume that her mum used on her school robes. Her mother smelled so wonderful, like the soft dewy flowers that she had planted outside in a window box at their house _Forest Haven_, and Rose knew she'd miss that smell more then she had let on before.

She bit her lip. Now that she thought about it, she'd miss her crazy father too… But maybe, not his teasing. He did like to do that quite a bit.

_"Thank Merlin you got your mother's brains…" _Her father's voice echoed inside her head, and she chewed harder on her lip. Yes, she had her mother's brains, but her determination, her bravery? Did she have any of her mother's bravery…? Far from placating Rose's fears her father's pre-Hogwarts pep talk had only managed to terrify her all the more. What, oh what, was she going to do…?

"Hey Rose, you okay? You look about ready to pass out." Al's voice was quieter then usual and, judging by the extreme paleness of his own face, he was quite a bundle of nerves too. Rose shrugged, not trusting herself to speak. "It'll be fine, you'll see."

He didn't look like he really believed what he had just said, but it was a nice try admittedly. Rose nodded in return and Albus clammed up quickly.

But exactly how _was_ she going to live up to her mother and father's name? She couldn't be as witty and brainy as her mother or as… well, as whatever it was that her father had been at school—surely there was a word to describe what Ronald Weasley had been at school, though it escaped her for the moment. But Rose couldn't even be overly bossy like her cousin Molly was and being funny and a mess around was certainly out of the question; James and Fred had that covered without the added help of the Scamander twins…

Suddenly being a Weasley seemed a much harder thing then it had been two hours ago.

Albus sighed, seeming to read her thoughts. Rose was secretly glad she wasn't dealing with being a Weasley _and _a Potter though.

"It's a lot to live up to, isn't it." It wasn't a question. Rose nodded again, turning her large blue eyes—inherited from her father—to Albus.

"I feel like I'm living in a shadow," she admitted, her voice quavering. She cleared her throat and tried again, speaking more evenly. "Mum and Dad were amazing at school… How am I ever going to compete with that…?"

"I dunno…" Albus sighed, turning his gaze to the outside window where the sunlight filtered through the leaves in a bright and sunshiny way that didn't echo what the pair was feeling. "I know I'll never be as good as my dad though."

Rose bit her lip again, but her heart went out to her cousin. If living up to what Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley were was going to be hard it must have been doubly, no triply so, for Albus, who was living up to _the _Harry Potter.

"Well, if you think living up to the name Weasley or Potter is bad try being a _Malfoy _for a day," a voice said, floating through the open door. Albus and Rose jumped, looking out into the corridor.

A boy came into view, his platinum blonde hair and scrawny form looking slightly ridiculous as he lugged his trunk awkwardly behind him, a bird cage tucked neatly under one arm. He looked a little battered and bruised—no doubt from the tussle to get on the train—and his hair was in disarray as if he had flown to Kings Cross Station on a broomstick. Rose couldn't help but manage a small smile, though it disappeared almost as soon as it graced her lips. The poor boy really did look out of place and more then a little lost. He drew himself up to his full height and swept his hair out of his face, only succeeding in making it even messier.

"When you're a Malfoy no one wants you to sit in their compartment because of who your father is." He dropped his trunk in the doorway of their compartment and gave a hefty sigh, setting his bird cage tiredly down next to it, as if this scene of standing in people's doorways had happened quite often. "So you're forced to beg people who you never thought in a million years you would ask to do you a favor to help you. But, here it goes. Can I sit here? I won't pretend everywhere else is full, because it isn't. It's just that no one wants to sit next to a _Malfoy_."

He sneered the last word in a tone that would have made his ancestors proud and Rose tensed, remembering the warning her father had given her. _Don't get too friendly with him Rosie…_ But the poor boy seemed so lost…

Albus recoiled back at once and Rose looked at him curiously.

"You're a Malfoy?" he asked, looking genuinely disgusted and alarmed. "Y-your father is Draco Malfoy?"

Rose leaned forward in interest. She knew nothing much about the Malfoys save they were an old wizarding family who had been known death eaters, that they had fought against her parents in the war and that her father referred to the patriarch of the family as a slimy git. She had been told to stay away from them, but she couldn't help but wonder why.

Scorpius sighed, seeming to lose patience. Surely he would have had a lot more if this hadn't happened to him in _every _compartment he'd asked to sit in.

"Yes, my father is Draco Malfoy. _No, _he's never gone to Azkaban even though I'm sure you think he deserves it. Yes, I was serious about asking you to sit and _no, _I'm not trying to get you to let down your guard so I can jinx you." He looked evenly into Rose's clear blue eyes, seeming to sense that trying to convince Albus would be futile, and that even as they spoke she was softening to his plight. She knew how nerve wracking it was to be going to Hogwarts, even _with _half of her family already there; she couldn't imagine how he, as the only Malfoy, would be feeling. "So can I sit or what?"

She wasn't sure if it was her stupid compassion or his stupid eyes—unreadable, stormy gray eyes she might add—that goaded her into doing it but finally after being stared down for a full thirty seconds, she gave a curt nod.

"Thanks." He yanked his trunk through the door to the compartment before ducking back out to retrieve a beautiful eagle owl with abnormally sky blue eyes and black lustrous feathers that resided in the bird cage he'd been carrying.

The bird glared at her as if sizing her up before deciding that she, an eleven year old girl with a wand she could barely use, was no threat and tucked her head under her wing to take a nap. On the seat next to Albus Crookshanks, Hermione's old cat from back in her school days, gave a sleepy twitch but otherwise did nothing to acknowledge any other bird's presence in the compartment. Orion, Albus's handsome snowy white owl, hooted dolefully from where he was in his cage.

The blonde haired boy stared at the trunk lying on the ground of the compartment, as if realizing that it would not lift itself, and frowned. He sighed and turned back to Rose, his cheeks turning a slight pink.

"Could you give me a hand?" he asked solemnly. His lips twitched into a shadow of a smirk. "I'm somewhat of a scrawny thing and can't lift it alone."

Rose's cheeks flooded with a color much darker then his. She had, after all, been secretly thinking the same thing about him being scrawny. She stood up to help, feeling more embarrassed by the minute, and doubly so when even with her help they could hardly get it off the ground.

"Al?" she said, turning her gaze to him. "Help please."

It was a command, not a question. Albus sighed heavily but stood up to offer his strength to the task—albeit, not very much. He was just as scrawny as the Malfoy boy.

Between the three eleven year olds they managed to lift the very heavy black trunk, embellished with the silvery letters _S.M., _onto the luggage rack above their heads. Rose and Albus resumed their seats—Rose closing the door to the compartment with a sharp snap before she did so—one across from the other closest to the window. Scorpius stared for a moment as if debating which person to sit next to. Figuring once again his chances were better with the redhead he sighed quietly before taking a seat down on the bench next to Rose, as far away as he could sit from her without appearing rude.

There was a long, lengthy and awkward silence, in which everyone avoided each other's gaze, before the blonde boy said, "I'm Scorpius by the way. Scorpius Malfoy."

Albus remained tight lipped and Rose nodded, remembering her manners.

"Rose Weasley," she said firmly, extending her hand in what she hoped was an aloof manner. It shook ever so slightly but Scorpius didn't seem to notice. He shook it firmly before letting his hand drop back to his lap. Her hand mirrored his. "This is my cousin, Albus Potter."

Al inclined his head, waiting for the usual out burst of, "Potter did you say? Are you by any chance related to _the _Harry Potter, the chosen one? The boy who lived? Can you get me his autograph?" but it didn't come. Scorpius merely nodded towards the raven haired boy and then turned his attention back to the redhead.

"I didn't mean to intrude on any of your conversation earlier," he said just as quietly, his cheeks slowly emptying of the blush it held before. "I mean… Your compartment door was open and the walls here are quite… thin…"

Rose nodded and the compartment lapsed back into awkward silence. All that could be heard was laughter ringing through the walls from the compartments around him—Scorpius was right. The walls were quite thin.

"What house are you expecting to be put in?" The question burst from Albus unexpectedly and Rose looked up, surprised. He colored as Scorpius turned his unreadable look to the emerald eyed boy.

"Slytherin." He said it without emotion and Albus's eyes widened as if surprised by the straightforwardness of him.

"But there's no with or wizard who went bad who wasn't in Slytherin!" Albus sputtered, look perturbed. Rose made a sound in the back of her throat that sounded like a cat being strangled, sending a glare to her cousin. Scorpius's eyes flicked to her for a moment before resting on Albus.

"Then I guess I'll just have to prove everyone else wrong."

Albus struggled with that for a moment.

"You aren't _ashamed _of your family then, are you?" he shot at the blonde haired boy, trying to keep the disdain in his voice at a minimum. "I mean… knowing what they were and what they've done."

"Albus!" Rose said in a scandalized tone, blushing even deeper then she already had been. "Albus, don't be so—"

"No, it's alright." Scorpius told her, his voice was even and low, no hint of anger being betrayed in it. He turned his gaze to Albus. "I'm not ashamed of my family, Potter, any more then you're ashamed of yours. My family are what they are. My dad loves my mum and my mum loves my dad and they _both _love me. I don't see anything to be ashamed of."

Albus sputtered, taken aback by the directness of Maloy's argument. "B-but your grandfather! He was a… he was a death eater!"

Scorpius became bored with the conversation. "Was, but no longer is since the fall of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. He's in Azkaban now, isn't he? Driven mad. And my father has spent the greater part of almost two _decades _trying to get people to understand that he wants nothing to do with the dark arts any longer. He's redeeming the name of Malfoy and that's _nothing _to be ashamed of."

The silence that stretched on between the three in the compartment was the longest and most awkward one yet. Scorpius never dropped his gaze from Albus who returned it searingly, as if searching his speech for anything he could argue on. And finally, just when Rose was feeling as if she couldn't take it any longer, Albus nodded.

"I reckon you're alright Malfoy," he said, only slightly begrudgingly. Malfoy gave a little shrug.

"I'm not my grandfather," he said firmly.

Silence reigned once again and Rose squirmed, unable to take the tense atmosphere between the two before bursting out, "The blibbering humdinger was sighted in Africa!!"

The two boys stared at her and she covered her mouth, her ears and cheeks and ears turning red.

"Mental," Albus sighed, shaking his head.

"Barmy," Scorpius agreed. They both grinned at each other and gave an awkward laugh. Rose bit her lip once more—it was becoming such a nervous habit for her.

Three hours, five games of exploding snap, one heated argument between Rose and Albus over who cheated on the last game, and a whole cart of sweets later, the train was finally coming into Hogsmeade Station. By the time they got there Albus had warmed up considerably to the Malfoy boy and Rose had grown increasingly uneasy, still mulling over all the things her father had said, comparing it to the blonde haired boy standing next to her.

"Train stopped. Let's go."

Rose got off first and gripped her newly bought wand—eleven inches, springy, unicorn hair and excellent for Charms work—tightly in her robes pocket, turning white beneath her freckles. Albus and Scorpius followed, both too afraid to even speak. Albus's dark hair made him seem even more pale then his cousin and, with the unexpected companion of Scorpius Malfoy—whose pale complexion and white blonde hair made him look washed out with fear—on his left, they became quite the spectacle getting off the train. Each of them looked so much like their fathers that it wasn't a wonder why they were getting the looks that they were as older and students their own age passed. A Potter and a Malfoy, walking together? Unheard of!

"Wish they wouldn't stare," Rose muttered to Albus, avoiding eye contact with a third year that was looking absolutely shell shocked at their presence. "It isn't as if they haven't met a Weasley or a Potter before."

"Yeah, well, the rest of them didn't have a tag along did they?" Scorpius answered, looking light he might be violently sick at any moment.

It seemed that wherever the young Malfoy walked a violent hiss, sounding like the pistons from the train, followed him. As they walked further and further the hissing became louder and furious, growing like wildfire. He stumbled as a passing fifth year pushed him, falling to the platform with a great grunt, rolling over to look at the person who had done it.

"That's for my gran!" the girl said, puling out her wand. "Your stinking grandfather murdered her! I'll show you—"

Quicker then words Molly Weasley, Percy Weasley's daughter, was there in a flash with her own wand in hand and a carrying voice that said, "Wand away Fawcett, or I'll report you to your head of house, understand? There's _no _fighting on the platform."

The girl scowled at Molly, looked murderously at Scorpius, and stalked away, muttering under her breath.

Molly turned to look at her two cousins who were watching with their mouths slightly open and smiled.

"Hullo Al, Rose. And…" She trailed off as her eyes fell on their third companion and her lips mashed into a thin line, understanding flashing in her eyes. "Well then, I guess I'll see you two up at school."

And the fifth year prefect from Ravenclaw turned on her heel and marched away through the crowd without another word. Rose, who hadn't exactly been _overly _friendly to the Malfoy boy either, was appalled at her family's manners. Of course, she knew that her family had never gotten along with the Malfoy family, but could they not even manage to be a little more civil? It was truly embarrassing.

"I'm sorry!" Rose said at once as her cousin disappeared. It was one of the only direct things she had said to Malfoy since first introducing herself. "Molly isn't usually like that. She's bossy of course, but not so… cold…"

Scorpius shrugged as he stood up and said in a very quiet voice, "Don't worry. I'm used to it."

Albus said nothing, his brow creased deeply as he glared after his cousin reproachfully. Sure, he hadn't exactly rolled out the welcome wagon for Scorpius Malfoy—Rose had been more civil at the start—but at least he hadn't acted the part of a stuck up prat. And over the three hours that he had spent with Scorpius in the compartment he'd come to realize how alike he and Scorpius were. Both of them liked the Holyhead Harpies, had huge chocolate frog card collections and played the same position in Quidditch.

Rose flushed but was saved a response by a shout that set her stomach back into butterflies that had, strangely, abated from the moment they had encountered Scorpius Malfoy. The voice was low, hoarse, and just as she remembered it from family get-togethers. She brightened immediately.

"Firs' years! Firs' years, o'er here! Budge along there, gotta get to the firs' years."

Rose turned, pushing her way through the throng jostling on the dimly lit platform, delighted, and flung herself onto the leg of one of her favorite people in the world; she did, after all, only come up to a little below his waist. "Hagrid!"

"Rosie, Al!" Hagrid said delightedly, his warm beetle black eyes staring down at them through his thick tangled beard that was now sprinkled with gray. He rested a hand on Albus's shoulder as he fought his way to Hagrid's side, also grinning. "Bin' waitin' on you two fer quite some time now, haven't I? Welcome to Hogwarts!"

And Rose glowed. Hogwarts. She was _really _here.

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**A/n: **Wow, think that's long enough for all of you? The first chapter word count comes to 3,300+ words. You all ought to feel quite spoiled out of your mind. Haha.

So, what's your verdict? You like it, dislike it, think I got the characters in character or are they totally off the wall? I'd love to hear your input, so don't forget a review!

Right, well, that's all from me. See you next update… (hopefully!!)

'Till then… Mischief managed!

-UndeniablyMe ;)


	2. Choices and Consequences

**As Always, Lions and Serpents**

A Story by UndeniablyMe

**A/n: **Well, here I am with an update, and it hasn't been too long has it? :) Actually, for me, this is what we'd call a very early update. Usually I don't get around to my updates for three weeks at _least_. You should all feel extremely spoiled now shouldn't you? :)

Okay, enough of my chatter. See you at the bottom!

-UndeniablyMe ;)

* * *

**Chapter Two: Choices and Consequences**

To say that Rose Nymphadora Weasley was nervous would be quite an understatement; she was downright petrified. Her palms were sweaty, her knees were shaking and she could hardly walk straight, let alone negotiate a rocky path down a hill in the moonlight. She staggered next to Hagrid, taking nearly four steps for every one of his, her speech pattern becoming more and more hurried and her voice higher with each step.

"And Dad says that I better make it into Gryffindor, or I'll be disowned from the family but I'm pretty sure he was kidding. Well, I hope he was kidding. I mean, it'd be awful to be disowned, but especially by Dad. I mean, not that he would, and not that it'd be a bad thing to not be in Gryffindor, it's just that—OW!"

Hagrid smiled slightly as the redheaded girl tripped spectacularly over a protruding tree root and suppressed a chuckle as he helped the anxious girl find her footing again. Without so much as taking a breath Rose thanked him and then was off again, talking faster than a speeding broomstick.

"And did you know that Godric Gryffindor--"

Albus tuned his cousin out easily and walked on Hagrid's other side, preferring to stay quiet and listen to his cousin jabber on about something or other she read in _Hogwarts, A History_, covertly watching Scorpius Malfoy out of the corner of his eye.

Albus still wasn't sure what to make of _the Malfoy boy, _as he had come to think of him in his head, though he had proved so far that he was nothing like Albus would have thought he'd been. Scorpius was as different from the Malfoy image he had created in his head—one with an upturned nose, sneering pointed features and an ego to match even that of Uncle Percy's—as could have ever been possible.

Of course, Scorpius had the usual white blonde hair and pointed features of a Malfoy and already on more then one occasion Albus had heard him give a sneer worthy of the image he'd conjured in his head. But even that, Albus had to admit to himself, had been balanced by a quiet confidence and certain humbleness that Albus couldn't fathom. What was it that made Scorpius so… so… different from what a Malfoy _should _have been? And could other people see the difference like he, Albus Potter, could?

Yet, with the way people treated Scorpius Malfoy, Albus was sure that they could not. It made him prickle with indignation too, because Scorpius was certainly not his father just as much as Albus was not _his _father. It was all very confusing, but Scorpius Malfoy and Albus Potter were more alike then Albus cared to admit. And what Scorpius had said about proving people wrong about Slytherin had been such an interesting point… What would it be like to make history, change what people thought about something, just like his father had done…?

For a moment Albus seriously debated if being put in Slytherin would be such an awful thing. He wiped the thought quickly from his mind, envisioning his uncles' looks of horror and his very favorite uncle, Uncle Ron, saying, "Blimey Al. And I thought you were alright." And, despite the irrefutable fact that their families had never gotten along, Albus certainly didn't _hate _Scorpius Malfoy, but did that make them friends? He wasn't sure… A Potter and a Malfoy, friends? Was that even possible? What would Rose say? And, even worse, what would _James _say...?

"You'll be ge'in yer firs' look a' the castle in a momen'," Hagrid's voice rang through the clear night air, pulling Albus from his thoughts. Next to him Scorpius stumbled on a nearly invisible tree root and Albus's hand grabbed his shoulder to stop him from falling.

"Thanks," the blonde boy mumbled.

"Don't mention it," Albus said.

They walked in silence for a moment and then… They turned the corner where they got a full view of the lake and the grand castle that was Hogwarts across it. Albus's mouth dropped open, Rose gasped and even Scorpius, who usually had good control over his facial expressions, gave an awestruck look. How could he not when he had seen the spectacle that greeted him?

The lake was a smooth inky black, concealing jealously the fantastical world that Albus had been told dwelled below. It reflected the stars and clouds above so that it looked like a giant looking glass for the sky to preen itself in, twinkling at its own imposing and fantastic reflection. The trees retreated back a short way back from the shoreline, leaving a graceful sweep of rocks and dirt to ring the motionless lake. The path extended down, right into the depths of the lake and Albus fancied that, if one could have kept going, the path would have gone all the way to the bottom of the lake.

"Watch yer step there Rosie!" a beaming Hagrid said, catching a breathless and slightly agitated Rose as she tripped on a loose stone and nearly toppled into the lake. "Wouldn' wan' to be all wet for the sorting feast, would you now?"

Rose gave a grimace as if to say, "Don't remind me."

On the shore closest to them, twenty little boats bobbed, creating small ripples that fanned out through the still water and disappeared somewhere near the middle. But across the lake on the farthest shore and, reflected on the lake's edge, was the _real _treat; a sight that Albus had been dreaming of for eleven years. Hogwarts.

It rose up, perched precariously on the outcropping of a large mountain and was surrounded completely by forest, save where the lake met its shores and where the main gates, located on the south side, were thrown open and admitting horseless drawn carriages. It was hewn from beautiful white stone, weathered by the many years it had seen so that it was almost gray, and many turrets and outcroppings sprang up from the main structure, looking like unexpected growths that had popped up sometime during the many centuries. The castle's many windows were lighted with flickering fires, making the many lit windows twinkle from every level in a welcoming way.

Rose was enraptured.

"It's _beautiful_," she said softly, sighing deeply. Hagrid grinned at her.

"Same thin' yer mum said when she was here," he said, and then, to the whole group, "Alrigh' no more then four to a boat. Go on!"

And the little party of first years all scurried into a boat, Rose and Albus choosing the one closest to Hagrid and Scorpius clambering in after them. A perky brunette who immediately introduced herself as Adalyn Hunt climbed in to make their boat complete and hit it off immediately with Rose. They both liked to talk a lot it seemed.

"Everyone in? Alrigh', onward!" The little boats obeyed and glided forward at a steady pace, creating long smooth ripples in the black water.

Albus and Scorpius were mostly silent, preferring to listen to Rose and Adalyn excitedly swapping information on what they knew about Hogwarts and what house they'd like to go to—("I think Ravenclaw sounds fascinating!" Adalyn said excitedly.)—and all together filling up the otherwise silent night.

"You know, I never did ask you. What house do _you _want to go to?" Scorpius said in an undertone to Albus, though his unusual gray eyes never were taken off of the castle.

Albus was slightly taken aback, still not used to the abrupt and somewhat alarming questions Scorpius both asked and answered with unembarrassed ease.

"Er… well, my older brother's in Gryffindor," he said, turning back to the lake and dipping his fingers in the icy water. "My whole family was in Gryffindor to tell you the truth, and you know it wouldn't be too bad to get in there… Though, it would be annoying to follow in James's footsteps and put up with him _all _the time…"

He trailed off and Scorpius looked amused. For the first time since it had come into view Scorpius took his eyes off of the imposing castle and turned them on Albus.

"You don't want to be a Gryffindor." It wasn't a question.

"I didn't say that," Albus said quickly. Scorpius smirked.

"You actually did a wonderful job of saying a lot and managing to say absolutely nothing."

But Scorpius seemed to see that this was a sore subject for Albus and didn't push it any longer, leaving Albus with the thoughts that had been bothering him ever since he'd gotten his letter. Which house_ did_ he want to be a part of…?

Certainly not Hufflepuff, he thought dismissively. True, in the past Hufflepuff had been the joke of the school and where all the 'duffers'—according to Uncle Ron—got put, but in the Battle of Hogwarts the Hufflepuffs had proven their loyalty and stayed beside their friends to fight. In fact, it would be quite an honor to go to Hufflepuff. His older cousin Lucy was a proud member where dwelt the loyal at heart and unafraid of toil, but he knew that Hufflepuff was not the place for him. Though loyal he may be the idea of Hufflepuff had never tempted him.

But then, perhaps Ravenclaw? This was dismissed as quickly as the thought of Hufflepuff. Truly, there was nothing wrong with that house either, as Ravenclaw had turned out many, many talented and gifted witches and wizards throughout the age and was the home to his cousins Victoire and Dominique. But Rose would be more of a shoe-in for Ravenclaw then he would. Studying really _wasn't _his sort of thing, nor was learning around the clock. So it would either be Gryffindor or Slytherin…

These musing thoughts carried him all the way into the Great Hall where, with one awestruck look at the ebony black sky in which stars had been liberally streaked across in breath taking constellations, the sorting was to begin. His thoughts, distracted momentarily with the beautiful spectacle above—("It's enchanted to look that way!" Rose said knowledgably. "I read about it in that book my mum gave me, _Hogwarts, A History_.")—could not be altogether redirected. The dread that was seeping through his mind was like a faucet that had been forgotten to turn off, dripping insistently no matter what he did. _Drip…drip… Gryffindor… Slytherin… Gryffindor… Slytherin…drip…_

_But what if I am in Slytherin? _Albus thought worriedly, wishing that he would have thought to question his father more in depth when he had the chance. _What if I do go to that house?_

_Then Slytherin will have gained a great student, won't it have? _A voice that sounded suspiciously like his father's sounded in his mind, allaying his fears once more, though not quite managing to diminish them altogether. _It'll be alright Al, no matter what house. You'll make us proud._

_You'll make us proud…_ That thought, coupled with the encouraging thumbs up from James and the answering grins from all of his other cousins around the Great Hall, gave him courage and he stumbled forward with all the rest of the first years. He took his place, standing in front of the staff table, and waited. It felt as if a huge weight had dropped into his stomach.

Professor Longbottom gave a huge wink when he saw Albus and Rose standing next to each other, both of them shivering like leaves, and stood the four legged stool in front of them. The knot seemed to tighten more at the sight of what was _on _the stool.

Albus had heard of the Hogwarts Sorting hat, had heard how his own father had pulled a sword out of it in his second year, but _this _had not been what he was expecting. There, on the four legged stool, sat a very dirty, very careworn, and _very _ugly hat. The years had, quite obviously, not been very kind to the Hogwarts Sorting Hat and Albus could hardly imagine a sword being pulled out of something like that.

As if it mattered in the end what Albus thought, though. The hat opened at the brim—as it had done for countless years—and began to sing.

_I am the Hogwarts sorting hat_

_I am more then meets the eye_

_I see into your pretty heads_

_There is nothing you can hide_

_For centuries I have sat upon this stool_

_Passed judgment on where you belong_

_I shall find your place amongst your peers_

_I have never yet been wrong_

_It may be to humble Hufflepuff you go_

_Where the truest of friends do dwell_

_If you are loyal and unyielding to the end_

_In dear Hufflepuff you'll do well_

_Those fierce and gentle black badgers_

_Always know what is required_

_A friend in Hufflepuff is a friend indeed_

_Never a better, more trustworthy, one acquired_

_Or maybe it is to witty Ravenclaw_

_You'll go with your head held high_

_Those clever Ravenclaws are set apart_

_It is for perfection that they strive_

_In Ravenclaw you'll grow and learn_

_In the nest of the bronze raven,_

_A world of intellect and simple beauty,_

_There you will find a safe haven_

_But if not there, perhaps to bold Gryffindor_

_Where dwell the fearless gold-hearted lions_

_Brave beyond those ever known before_

_And there their true value lie-in _

_A Gryffindor would do anything_

_To help their brethren and friends_

_When dark times hang over and around us_

_Our blazing Gryffindors see us to the end_

_But if not to all those you belong,_

_Then perhaps it is to that left last?_

_Cunning Slytherin, the silver serpent,_

_Bound by things now past_

_If to Slytherin you find your place_

_A word of advice I have for you_

_It is not what was that shapes you_

_No, ambitious ones, it is what you do_

_Now remember, those who are new and old,_

_All those who hear my song_

_I have, and will, sort you where you are_

_I know where you belong_

_For I am the Hogwarts Sorting Hat_

_I am more then meets the eye_

_Come place me on your pretty head_

_There is nothing you can hide_

The hat gave a little bow, signaling that it was done, and the hall burst into applause. Though, admittedly, much of it was spattered with incredulous and somewhat dubious looks around the hall. The hat had, in years before, come out with quite a few things that most had deemed strange but this was something else entirely.

"Ah, so the hat is a seer too," Scorpius mocked softly, barely moving his lips, so only Albus and Rose could hear him. "Brilliant."

Al suppressed a grin with difficulty and Rose, who was standing on Albus's other side, looked scandalized that Scorpius would even _think _of talking during the sorting ceremony.

"When I call your name you will come up here, I will place the sorting had on your head, and it will tell you where you belong." Professor Longbottom cleared his throat. "Arnold, Haley!"

The sorting had begun. Albus tried with all his might to focus on what it was that was going on in the sorting, but with each passing moment he delved deeper and deeper into his own thoughts, troubled. The hat's words, mingled with Scorpius's and his father's was swirling together in a confusing haze. Would Slytherin really be _so _bad…?

"Cadwallader, Dennis!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

It wasn't as if his father _would _be disappointed if Albus did go to Slytherin, but it wasn't exactly him that Albus was worried about. James was still there, grinning at the table of scarlet and gold, and letting James down would be the worse thing in the world.

"Finnegan, Sean!"

"GRYFFINDOR!"

And there it was again; Gryffindor. It would be so much easier to just go to that house. His family was there and they would share a common room with squishy armchairs, warm crackling fires, talk and laughter... It would be so easy to be a Gryffindor... But was it what he wanted?

"Isaacs, Aurora!"

"RAVENCLAW!"

It would be easy to be a Ravenclaw too. Victoire was a Ravenclaw and if Rose wasn't a Gryffindor that was most certainly where she was going. You just had to do a lot of studying and be smart and... Albus's head just hurt to think about it, but there was no mistaking it. It would be easier than being a Slytherin...

"Kasely, Sonia!"

"SLYTHERIN!"

Albus winced at the name of the house but tried not to dwell. Yes, any house would be easier then Slytherin, but maybe it was worth the challenge...? Sonia Kasely certainly thought so, obviously...

"Malfoy, Scorpius!" Could they already be to the M's? The thought made Albus's heart leap and he pulled himself back to reality, watching in acute anxiousness to see where the Malfoy boy would go. Was he serious about going to Slytherin? Would the hat agree...?

Scorpius looked pale in the candlelight—the first time that Albus had seen anything close to a look of fear pass over his features. It wasn't hard to see what caused the look though. A resounding hiss had gone around the hall at the mention of his name and more then a few faces shone with anger. If it hadn't been clear to Albus before just how much contempt the wizarding world held the Malfoys in, it was clear now. Even a few faces on the Slytherin table looked disgusted.

"Good luck!" Albus said, pushing the reluctant blonde boy forward. Scorpius didn't even seem to hear him, but stumbled forward and sat gingerly on the stool, as if scared that it would shock him.

The hat dropped over his head and blocked out all the many glaring faces staring up at him. For a moment it was a sweet release to have nothing but darkness surrounding him and his heart beat settled down until…

_Ah, a Malfoy? Yes, I wondered when I'd be seeing you… _the little voice was thoughtful.

_Er… hullo… _Scorpius answered, feeling silly. The hat chuckled.

_You are very different from your family, very different, _the hat remarked. _Yet, similar in a way too, reminiscent of a certain Sirius Black… Where to put you…?_

_Slytherin, _Scorpius thought firmly and without hesitation. _I want to go to Slytherin._

_Slytherin? _The hat didn't seem surprised in the least, though Scorpius figured that was because he was looking inside his head.

_I want to prove myself, _Scorpius said. _I want them to know that they were all wrong about me, about my family, about my… about my father._

The hat gave a little hum of concentration as if, somewhere unseen, a brain was turning over the possibilities. _If you're sure… You know it'll not be easy to be in that house, especially with a name like yours._

Scorpius gripped the edges of his stool.

_I'm sure, _he answered firmly. _I want to be in Slytherin._

The hat gave one last chuckle. _You would do well in Gryffindor too, with that boldness in you, but if you insist… _

The hat declared in a loud voice, "SLYTHERIN!"

The answering cheer was interceded by hisses and boos from the other houses as well as a few nasty looks from a select group of Slytherins. A very angry glare from the Headmistress silenced the interruptions, but there was no mistaking the angry glowers being sent towards the Malfoy boy.

_He went to Slytherin like he said he would_, Albus thought, frowning slightly as Scorpius walked carefully over to the emerald green and silver table. _He isn't afraid…_

He pondered it over and over, the thought of Gryffindor and Slytherin swinging back and forth in his head like a pendulum. But which _one_?

And then, before he knew it the cry of, "Potter, Albus!" went up.

He froze, just as Scorpius had. He wasn't ready for this moment, he simply wasn't ready. He wanted to bolt from the Hall and get on a broom and never, _never _stop flying. But he didn't. Rose's warm hand on his shoulder pushing him forward out of line brought him back to it and he gave her a shaky smile. Finally, the time to be sorted had come.

_You'll do fine, _she seemed to be saying with her sapphire eyes.

_We'll see, _he answered with a stoic look in his own emerald ones.

But how was it that a walk that had taken everyone else took five short seconds, for him, seemed to take five hours? He felt the hall pressing in on him, James's excited grin from the table of scarlet and gold, and he sat uneasily down on the stool. What he would have given to be anywhere else but there at that very moment…

Professor Longbottom gave another encouraging smile and dropped the hat over his head. The hall disappeared and Albus was left staring into uneasy blackness.

_Ah… A Potter-Weasley… _a voice said softly in his ear, making him jump. _Quite a legacy…_

Albus couldn't repress a small grin. He was very proud of his family.

_No, it would not do to put you in Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw, _the little voice said bemusedly, reading Al's thought process easily, going through what he had only moments ago. _You do not belong there. And yet, it leaves the two houses that you are torn between most… Slytherin and Gryffindor…You are most extraordinarily like your father. You have the renowned bravery of a Gryffindor and, yet, the ambitious drive of a Slytherin…_

_Dad was a Gryffindor, not a Slytherin, _Albus thought firmly, almost rolling his eyes. The hat was not only old, but senile it seemed.

_True as that is, your father would have done well in Slytherin, _the hat said thoughtfully. _Yes, very well indeed._

_But he chose Gryffindor, _Albus said, the thought that his father being a Slytherin giving him courage. _And… I…_

_You don't know where you belong, _the hat observed. Albus was sure that, if the hat had eyes, it would be rolling them back at him. Somehow Albus knew that the thought of senility hadn't slipped past the hat.

_No, _Albus admitted, clenching the side of the stool tightly. _No, I don't._

_Ah, but I _do, the hat said in a sly little voice. _And you had better be—_

_Wait! _The hat paused and Albus took a deep breath, steeling himself to do what he was doing. _I'm sorry, I just gotta know… Did you really mean it…? I mean, when you said my dad would have done well in Slytherin…_

The hat was now slightly exasperated. _Of course I meant it. Slytherin is not evil, Mr. Potter, they are simply ambitious and would do much to achieve their ends. They must learn to _temper _themselves, that is all._

Albus clenched his hands onto the stool tighter, aware that everyone in the hall was whispering now. How long had it been since he'd sat down…?

_Okay… then, I guess… it's whatever you think… _Al took a deep, slightly panicky, breath. No matter what the hat said he'd deal with it. He just wanted to get off that stool and anywhere, even Hufflepuff, was better than that stool.

_If you're sure… _the hat asked. Albus didn't conciously say anything but gave a little nod. And, finally...

"SLYTHERIN!"

Even the whispering stopped in response to this declaration. Al's heart dropped out of his throat and down into his stomach. What had he _done_?

* * *

**A/n: **Haha. How's that for a cliff hanger? I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter, I know it's kind of slow, but 'tis necessary that we get all of the basics out of the way before anything else :) You have no idea how long that stupid sorting hat song took me. I am no poet and it took many long hours pondering the rhyme schemes of J.K. Rowling's own sorting hat songs to figuring out... :D But, in general, I'm quite happy with how it turned out.

Thanks for reading, I'll see you around next update! And don't be shy, leave me a review. Until then...

Mischeif managed!

-UndeniablyMe ;)


	3. The Silver Serpent

**As Always, Lions and Serpents**

A Story by UndeniablyMe

**A/n: **Well, well, well, long time no see! I'll explain why it's taken me so ridiculously long to get this done but, for now, how about you just read the chapter? See you at the bottom!!

;)

* * *

**Chapter Three: The Silver Serpent**

Albus's heart stopped beating in the instant the house name, the house where he now belonged, was announced.

_Slytherin… _He was a _Slytherin_.

The ragged interior of the hat stared back at him in an unforgiving and final sort of way. _Slytherin will make you great. _

_Slytherin._

No responding cheer, no loud whoop, came from any table now. For once the whole hall was bathed in silence, horrible deafening silence that made Albus want to clap his hands over his ears and drown it out, as the hat was lifted off the head of a boy with jet-black hair, emerald green eyes and glasses.

It was done. He was a Slytherin_, _just like James had said he'd be. All this time he'd been growing up, surrounded by some of the greatest Gryffindors that had ever existed in the world—his father and mother, Uncle Ron, Aunt Hermione, Uncle George and Aunt Angelina, the list went on and on—and he was a Slytherin; a snake in their midst. He must have been the first, the _only, _Potter to go to Slytherin.

_You'll make us proud… _Had his father been serious, or was it just something uttered in an attempt to comfort his child because the possibilities that he would actually be a Slytherin were minimal? His stomach churned. What had he _done_?

"It's okay," a quiet voice said, a warm hand resting on his back. Albus looked up into the brave and scarred face of Professor Longbottom. His smile was understanding, comforting, almost like a taste of home. "Go take your seat Al."

Albus gave a small, almost imperceptible, nod and stood on shaky legs. He was unable to focus on anything than the little silver snake that was curling its way onto the right side of his robes, taking its place in front of a field of emerald green. The house elves were very good if they could hear the sorting from below in the kitchens and manage to embroider the emblem of his new house on it mere seconds after he had been sorted. He wished they hadn't heard. He wished it was different than this…

But more than anything he wished that his robes could have stayed pure black with no crest on it for a little bit longer… It'd make it easier to pass the whole thing off as a bad dream. The silver serpent made it that much more real.

_A silver serpent; the mark of Salazar Slytherin…_ And now the hall was hissing with whispers, hissing like thousands of angry snakes ready to strike at his exposed flesh, injecting the poison that had ruined so many generations before him.

Albus's stomach clenched painfully. Was this really happening or was it just a dream—a horrible, _horrible_ dream? If it was he wanted to wake up _now, _right this _moment_. How could he have let this happen…? He should have fought more, should have insisted that Slytherin wasn't what he wanted, asked to go to Gryffindor. He breathed in deeply, eyes stinging. He should have been more like James.

_James… _

Albus looked around and immediately his eyes met the hazel ones of his brother's, feeling as if hours had passed while he'd sat there on that stool.

James Sirius Potter sat in his seat staring at his little brother in surprise, the little gold lion on his own robes visible even from the distance. It made Albus's heart heavier to see it there, proudly on his brother's chest, marking his failure to join them profoundly. But not even the gold lion on his brother's robes could make him feel as small as the actual look on his brother's face. James looked crestfallen and the empty seat next to him, the one he'd been saving for his brother, was to forever remain empty. His brother would _never _join him at the Gryffindor table because he wasn't a Gryffindor… he was a _Slytherin_.

_Albus? _James seemed to be saying with his hazel eyes, uncomprehendingly. _How…?_

_I'm sorry, _Albus tried to say back without words, his eyes blurry and over bright. His knees knocked together. _I'm sorry…_

Worse than a scowl, worse than a look of hatred and far worse than anything that had ever passed between them as brothers, James's face broke down into a look of heartbreaking disappointment and, around James, the rest of his family already seated at the table mirrored it. As if there was anything in the world Albus hated more than disappointing his family, his brother.

Albus returned the look for a fraction of a second, trying to convey the sorrow and chagrin he himself felt. But a moment later it became too much and he turned his gaze away. His eyes were burning more than before and the threat of tears was now more than a threat; it was a promise.

It wouldn't do to cry in front of the whole school. Things were bad enough as it was. How much time had passed since he'd been sorted? A minute, five minutes? Had he caused too much of a scene?

Turning his back on his brother, he made his way slowly to the table farthest to the left—the one of emerald and silver. The walk was mercifully shorter than the one to the stool had had been but, somehow, it felt like more eyes were on him than had been even during his sorting.

"Princely, Giselle!"

The sorting resumed quickly as Professor Longbottom plowed on determinedly, demanding the attention of the hall. A pale, blonde pigtailed girl stood up to take a seat on the sorting stool but no one noticed. All eyes, even that of the faculty, were on the Potter boy as he took a seat. He could hear the gasps still reverberating through the air and the unbelief was still palpable, touchable…

He felt the icy stares of his now fellow housemates boring into him, unbridled and uncontrolled in their curiosity and mistrust. They didn't cheer for him like they did for everyone else. The thought made him feel oddly empty. But if they had cheered would it be better or worse? Did he want to be accepted into this strange place that, ever since he could remember, he'd been warned against?

The answer was a firm and resounding no. He didn't want to leave behind all aspirations yet. Maybe he could go to the head's office and be resorted. He didn't belong here, surely the hat knew that. Everyone knew a Potter didn't belong in _Slytherin_. What had he been thinking? What had that hat—that stupid, _stupid_ hat—been thinking? It was a mistake, all a mistake, and now his family… his family hated him, they had to. Of that he could be sure.

Was there no comfort to be found anywhere?

"Potter."

The voice that said his name was rough and cold, two combinations that didn't make the new Slytherin first year hopeful. Albus looked up, trying not to betray any fear, but failing miserably.

A rather burly looking fifth year stared him down, his coarse features intimidating and his eyes unyielding pools of unreadable unrest. It felt like a test, staring back into that harsh face, and if he blinked they'd toss him out and he'd really have nowhere to go… He tried his hardest not to flinch away, to find in himself that Gryffindor courage.

_But… you're a Slytherin. _The thought crushed all ambitions of courage. And, judging by the look of cold indifference, he wasn't even a _good _Slytherin anyways.

A second later the gaze was withdrawn and the fifth year gave a curt nod before turning his eyes back to the sorting. One by one the rest of the Slytherins followed suit. Albus's eyes stung at the lack of a warm welcome, but schooled his features into a blank expression. Had he passed? If he stayed here too long in this house would he end up just like the rest of them--cold, indifferent, almost inhuman? He repressed a shiver.

"Hey, Al--er, Potter."

The voice that addressed him this time was familiar, less sure, and softer than the one before. He looked up and saw Scorpius Malfoy, his hair just as messy as Albus's own and his face just as pale, peering at him in the torchlight. Albus hadn't even noticed he'd sat down next to him.

"Are... you okay?"

Albus gave a minute nod, not failing to notice that half the Slytherin table , though their eyes were facing the sorting, weren't paying attention to a word that was being said outside of Albus and Scorpius's conversation.

"RAVENCLAW!"

A resounding cheer from the table closest to them made a few Slytherin heads turn in the direction of the sound and Scorpius took advantage of the distraction.

"It's going to be hard, being the only Potter in here." Scorpius's look wasn't sympathetic but it wasn't patronizing either as Albus had feared it would be. It helped… a _little_. "You're going to have to put up with a whole load of dragon dung before you get out of here."

"Reynolds, Ashley!"

Albus repressed a sigh, his shoulders drooping. "Yeah. I know."

"GRYFFINDOR!"

Neither of the first years were paying attention to the sorting—anyone else's place in the school seemed inconsequential, though Albus's already constricted stomach gave another tight squeeze at the mention of Gryffindor. He imagined how things would be different if it had been Gryffindor he had been sorted to and not Slytherin…

Scorpius seemed to read his mind and he added, "The Slytherins aren't like the Gryffindors. They're tougher, meaner, but more loyal to one another then even a Hufflepuff. If everyone else abandons, they'll have your back. But you have to earn their respect first. It isn't just given."

Albus nodded, his stomach muscles tightening. Scorpius turned his gaze back to the front of the hall where "Wayne, Bridgett!" was being sorted. He understood the conversation on what the Slytherins would and wouldn't do to be over.

And, as much as he had heard about Slytherin being an awful house—defended only by his father's insistence that they weren't—he couldn't help but notice the looks on the faces of those around him were no longer surprised but skeptical and suspicious. They seemed to be sizing him up, waiting to pass further judgment until he did something to demonstrate just exactly what he was capable of.

A Potter in Slytherin… It was unheard of, and Albus didn't need a lightning bolt on his forehead to tell him what he already knew. He was a _Potter_, and as such he had to uphold the family name—even as a Slytherin.

He had brought it on himself. After all, he had _let _the hat choose, when he himself could have made the choice to be in Gryffindor… He had chosen this fate and there was no one to blame but himself… He had chosen… chosen…

_He _was now the chosen one, of sorts, now. He, like his father, had made a choice and now it was time to see it through.

_Never do anything halfway, _Harry had always told his children. _You either do it or you don't._ And, though he had chosen the exact opposite of what Harry Potter had, he somehow felt more like his father than ever before… The thought warmed his insides very slightly.

"Weasley, Rose!"

Professor Longbottom's voice brought Albus out of his stupor and he looked up, his eyes meeting anxiously with that of Rose's as she walked slowly forward. She arranged herself carefully on the stool, the only betrayal of fear being her clenched fists on her skirt. Professor Longbottom gave an assuring little nod that Rose didn't notice. Her blue eyes swept the hall once more, finding Albus and giving a small smile, and the hat dropped over her eyes. The hall was snuffed out immediately like someone had blown out a candle.

_Ah, another Weasley… _the hat's voice was methodical and younger than Rose had thought it'd be inside her mind. _Your clan is quite like rabbits, aren't they? Always multiplying… I wonder if I will ever see the end of it._

Rose was rather insulted but bit her tongue to stem the snide comments she'd like to shoot back at the hat. Though, as he was inside her head, it didn't matter. He heard them all anyways.

_Fiery, like your mother and father, _the hat observed. _I remember them well… And, Ah… _the hat gave a little sigh and Rose imagined that, if the hat had a real mouth, it'd be smiling. _Albus Potter is your cousin…_

_Yes, _Rose said, not trusting herself with any other reply.

_You are afraid for you cousin, _the hat said contemplatively. _You fear that Slytherin will change him…You are afraid he will be alone._

Rose shivered. It was strange having something know all of your thoughts. _Yes. Albus doesn't belong in Slytherin._

_I'm sorry you think so. Your cousin is stronger then you might think, Miss Weasley, though your compassion does you credit… _the hat mused, giving a little chuckle. _I have no doubts about your cousin doing well where I have placed him. But we aren't here to discuss him, are we? We are here to discuss _you_. Your heart is that of a— _

_WAIT!!! _Rose thought frantically, cutting off the hat. It stopped, seemingly bemused.

_I was wondering when you'd start talking a little more, _the hat said with a deep sigh. _Yes, what is it?_

_I'm sorry, it's just…_ Rose gave a great gulp. _I was wondering if I could tell you… where I thought I should be placed…?_

The hat seemed shocked and then burst into great whoops of laughter that Rose was sure could be heard around the hall. Her ears turned a bright pink—not that anyone could see.

_You tell me? I thought _I _was the Hogwarts Sorting Hat! _The hat gave a chuckle. _It turns out I have been mistaken all these years… Very well, Miss Weasley. I'll humor you. Where do you think _you _belong?_

Rose said quickly, _Ravenclaw. I'm not brave enough for Gryffindor I think… Books are more up my alley._

The hat seemed to speculate over the point for a moment before saying, _Yes, well, thank you for the input. You, my dear, without a doubt are a—_the hat shouted, "GRYFFINDOR!"—_despite deluding yourself into thinking otherwise._

And then the hat gave another laugh over the Gryffindor girl who had thought herself a Ravenclaw. Before Rose, who was feeling as if she had been tricked in some way, could get in a word edgewise the hat was lifted off her head. It was probably better too for the hat, because Rose Weasley's choice of words weren't exactly… well… ladylike.

The hall exploded into light around her as a loud roar sounded, sustained mostly by her cousins as they clamored and cheered from each of their spots in the hall respectively. Victoire's group of friends at the Ravenclaw table waved handkerchiefs in the air delightedly and Lucy and Molly both cheered from their tables. But the majority of her family, who were seated in the center of the hall and bedecked with crimson and gold, yelled the loudest.

She made her way down to them, her eyes sparkling, even though she was a little surprised and cross with the old sorting hat.

"Congratulations Rosie!" Roxanne gushed.

"You did it this time Rose!" James crowed superiorly.

"Knew you couldn't go anywhere else!" Fred said delightedly.

"Did the family proud!" Louis roared.

"Thanks," she said, still beaming and blushing all the way up to her red roots, accepting a hug from Roxanne. "You guys are wonderful!"

She looked around, habitually, as she always did for her favorite cousin. And then, saddening slightly, she remembered he was the one family member missing. Her eyes sought him earnestly from across the hall.

Her gaze traveled over through the table of bronze and blue and to Albus who was sitting at the Slytherin table, just as the golden lion on a red background weaved itself onto her robes. He caught her eye and smiled. His head inclined to her he mouthed, "Good job Rosie!" She gave a slightly breathless smile back, though it was wistful and spoke volumes of her desire for Albus be sitting next to her, before settling herself comfortably amongst the red and gold.

The sorting ended quickly after that—the name Weasley was always at the bottom of the list—and the feast began.

It was so unexpected to Albus to suddenly find the empty platters before him piled high with all of his favorite food that all of his worries at being a Slytherin and losing his family's love were driven momentarily away. Instead he forced himself to dwell on the huge turkey legs, the towering spires of treacle tart and the tantalizing scent of potatoes wafting towards him. He even managed to lose himself so thoroughly in the ethereal beauty of the night sky above him that, in between courses, he almost didn't notice the sick feeling in his stomach when his Fred and James started a food fight with the Scamander twins. Almost.

He pressed his thoughts of the Gryffindor table and anxieties about being a Slytherin into the back of his mind where it lurked all the way until the last morsels of dessert had vanished.

Instead he made small talk with Scorpius, who introduced him to the four other first year Slytherin boys—Terrent Zabini, Lucas Avery, Alcander Selwyn, Ivan Schroeder and Dylan Goyle. They were cold and indifferent towards Albus for the most part but, surprisingly, vicious and biting towards Scorpius. There wasn't much time spent lingering over conversing with them when it wasn't necessary.

When it finally came time for the prefects to lead the first years away to their houses, however, the sinking feeling came rushing back to him in a quick whoosh, leaving him wishing that he hadn't eaten so much during the feast. Scorpius came to stand next to him, looking just as disquieted as Albus felt.

And for once, walking down to the dungeons, Albus's name made him just as much of an outsider as Scorpius Malfoy.

"They don't seem to... er… like you that much," Albus said quietly, the two of them bringing up the rear of the first year Slytherin group.

He immediately wished he could take the words back as soon as he said them but Scorpius didn't seem offended.

"No, they wouldn't," he stated listlessly. Albus had nothing to say back.

They walked on in silence, passing through the large entrance hall with its spectacular marbled floor and to an archway leading down on the left of the grand staircase. Albus kept his gaze down, exploring patterns in the stone floor as they moved deeper and deeper down towards their destination. Albus felt as if he were descending into the belly of Slytherin's monster…

Very suddenly the group came to a halt, as if they all belonged to some sort of many limbed creature, and only Albus stumbled forward, unaware of the stop. A few raised eyebrows and a couple of unimpressed glares were sent his way but other than that no one spoke. He was a Potter. He wasn't expected to understand.

The group of silver and emerald had come to a stop in front of a bare stretch of wall, quite similar to all the other walls down in the dungeon save a small outline of a snake etched almost undetectably into one of the inlaid stones. Albus stared. He wouldn't have ever known where it was had no one ever showed him.

"Basilisk." The voice that said the word let the last syllable travel in a distinctive little _hiss _that made Albus shudder.

Silently the stone slid sideways out of sight, like shadows fleeing from the light, revealing a doorway to what could be nothing but the Slytherin common room. Without a word the little group of first years walked into the room and this time Albus was only a fraction of a second behind the rest.

The Slytherin common room was elegant and dark—just as Albus had always imagined. It lacked warmth and real light, having only harsh green lamps to cast light into the otherwise pitch black corners. The corners seemed to contain many eyes, all watching and waiting for him to do something. A soft silver tinkling, coming from an unseen music box, cast a mysterious aura into the air, making the room seem dangerous and alive.

A shiver went down Albus's back. There was something repulsively attractive about the darkly lit room with its handsome ebony wood desks and dark leather couches.

"Boys to the left, girls the right." The prefect that had nodded to Albus at the Slytherin table spoke, his voice quiet with an indescribable edge. "The first year dorm is the first door in the hallway, breakfast starts at eight o'clock, classes at nine-thirty. Good night."

And with that he turned away and disappeared into one of the alcoves, settling himself in a leather armchair thrown into deep relief from the evanescent lamp on the table in front of it.

Albus stayed rooted to the spot, his eyes roving the cavernous room curiously.

"It's different then the Gryffindor common room," Albus said in a soft voice. Scorpius betrayed the barest hint of a smirk.

"I wouldn't know," he said simply. "C'mon."

They headed to the left, descending even deeper down to where the Slytherin dormitories were located. Albus couldn't help but feel as if he were descending into the lair of some dormant and evil monster.

"Why the dungeons?" he asked, as soft as he could. "Everyone knows that only bad things happen in the _dungeons._"

Scorpius's badly concealed grin emboldened the misfit Potter only slightly.

Zabini, Avery, Selwyn, Schroeder and Goyle had already made their way into the dormitory and Avery shut the door with a bang behind him, as if forgetting that two more boys were also going to be rooming with them for the next seven years. Scorpius sighed tiredly, as if this were an extremely normal occurrence, and Albus grimaced, unused to being treated as if he were something dirty on the bottom of a shoe.

"Best be getting used to this," Scorpius said dully. "I have a feeling it'll be happening quite a bit."

"Shouldn't… shouldn't you fit in with them?" Albus asked, unable to contain himself any longer. At Scorpius's fixed look, he back peddled and said hastily, "I mean, your fathers… weren't they all pals at school?"

"They were."

"Oh."

There was an uncomfortable silence in which the two boys stood and stared at the ebony door, as if waiting for the other to give a password to the door that neither of them knew.

"They call my father a traitor." Scorpius's voice was still expressionless. "Not only because the role he played in the war, but because of what he's gone onto do. My dad… he helps to track down old death eaters, ones that are still trying to rally. It's his way of… atoning for what he's done. But they don't like it."

Albus nodded, but there was nothing he could think to say. Scorpius, to avoid any other questions the Potter boy might have, pushed the door open to the Slytherin first years' dormitory.

Albus's first impression of the Slytherin dormitory was that it was at least warmer than the common room had been; they at least had regular lighting in this room. Instead of a large circular room that Gryffindor Tower was said to sport it was long and rectangular with a handsome ebony door at the end, leading to what Albus assumed was a bathroom. The beds were lined up against one wall—flowing emerald green hangings draped over an ebony black bed— like chess pieces, tall and imposing.

Everything was handsome, immaculate and striking. Albus felt small in comparison. His eyes scanned over the room, moving past the five other boys who were busily moving about the room, acting as if he and Scorpius didn't exist.

There were no windows, but four beautiful large paintings on each of the dungeon's wall, serving to brighten up the otherwise dreary and edgy stone walls. Each setting was so realistically painted that they looked like a window to another world, with life breathed into each one with the artist's measured stroke of the brush. Albus wondered, fleetingly, who the artist had been, before peering closer at each canvas to better catch the detail of each work of art.

On one wall was the image of a library, the other of a Quidditch pitch, the third of a night-kissed lake—much like the lake outside on the castle ground—and, the last, of a far spans of trees. Albus gave them a tired little smile, as if there were occupants lurking out of sight. The paintings almost made the dungeon seem inhabitable.

"It's… quaint…" Albus offered. Scorpius's little smirk, the one that Albus was coming to think of as his trademark look of humor, graced his features.

"Not at all like any other part of the castle," Scorpius said with a nod. His gray eyes swept around the chamber with a controlled look of distaste. "Ah, of course, who couldn't have seen that coming?"

Albus directed his gaze to what Scorpius was examining and his stomach tightened.

At first glance it seemed as if seven beds were set up all in a neat row, each with identical emerald green hangings. But, on closer inspection, it was found that there were five beds to the right of a large bookshelf and two to the left—isolated and removed from the others. There was no doubt who the two beds on the left would belong to.

"Wonderful," Scorpius added darkly, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Their hospitality is impeccable."

Albus sighed, his stomach lurching. This was going to be a long seven years… Could it have been just that morning he'd been excited for the next seven years of his life?

They dressed for bed in silence, each absorbed in their own thoughts. Albus brooded, Scorpius dwelt, and the others ignored them pointedly, going so far as to actually look past them and walking in front of them as if they weren't alive. And, finally, just as Albus was sure that things couldn't get any worse, silence fell eerily over the dormitory, like a snake slithering into a small hole to hide for the night.

Albus wasn't sure if he liked the Slytherins better when they were awake, or when they were asleep. Asleep made them seem almost… dangerous…

"You and me, we're more alike than you'd think," Scorpius said finally, to break the silence that had fallen in between him and Albus, his gloomy gaze aimed at the top of his four-poster bed. "Both outsiders in this house, both being compared to our fathers…"

Albus didn't say anything; there wasn't any need. But the meaning of what Scorpius was offering didn't escape him. They could be friends, they could be equals, because they both knew what it was like to try and live up to a name.

Albus leaned back against his pillows thoughtfully.

"G'night…" he said, and then hesitantly added, "Scorpius."

Scorpius didn't answer for a moment but then, from his drawn curtains, he said softly, "Night Albus."

And then the dormitory was silent.

Albus wasn't sure how long he attempted to sleep, but he was sure he had been tossing and turning for at least an hour before he gave it up as a lost cause. The pitch black room—the lights had gone out as soon as the majority of them had fallen asleep—seemed to ring in the darkness and his thoughts bounced around the room, menacing as a swooping bat.

His owl hooted mournfully, wishing no doubt, to be able to be out and flying in the cool night air. Selfishly, Albus had kept the owl with him, hoping that the familiar presence of Orion would be a comfort, but the constant hooting was now becoming more chilling than comforting. Orion seemed to be begging him to let him hunt, deliver a letter, anything but being trapped in a dungeon…

_A letter… _yes, that was it. He could write a letter and send it home with Orion. That way, Orion got to be free to fly, and Albus could know that comfort was on the way…

He sat up and lit one of the candles, the magic one that wouldn't catch anything else on fire no matter what it came into contact with, and thought. Who would he write to? His mother, his father, Teddy…? No, his father. His father had never been wrong yet….

Albus pulled a piece of parchment to him, grabbed one of the quills from his trunk and a bottle of ink, and began scratching out a quick note to his father. But, just as he started writing out the word Dad at the top of the parchment, he stopped. Really, what was his dad supposed to do about it all? He was sure that if his father stormed the castle, demanding that the hat resort his son into Gryffindor, no one would object. He _was _Harry Potter after all. But what would that prove, that Albus could get into a house by playing the famous parent card? No, he wouldn't ask for preferential treatment, not even to get into Gryffindor.

He started again, but just as soon stopped, frowning.

And, well, what was he supposed to write? _Hey Dad, I got put in Slytherin tonight, let the whole family down, and almost wet my pants in front of the entire school. I think the hat has lost its marbles, all the kids in Slytherin are perfect gits, and the only one who talks to me is Scorpius Malfoy. How are you and Mum doing? _No, that wouldn't do. He may have been a Slytherin now—the thought still made him shudder—but he was still a _Potter, _a Gryffindor at heart, and he was brave enough to do this on his own without running to Mummy and Daddy. So what was left to do?

Well… he had always been good at hiding what he was feeling. And, for once, it felt completely necessary.

Merlin forgive him, he was going to lie to his father on the first night he got to Hogwarts.

_Hey Dad,_

_I figured you'd be getting the letter from James at anytime now bringing news, but I thought that I should let you know before he does anything to twist the truth. I was sorted into Slytherin—_his fingers shook so badly that the word was almost incomprehensible, as if by making it close to unreadable he could make it any less true—_but I don't want you to worry. The Slytherins are nice, I have lots of boys in my dorm to talk to and I actually kind of like it here in the dungeons. Tell Mum I miss her cooking, even though there's nothing to complain about here at Hogwarts, and I'll probably be going down to see Hagrid soon._

_That's all from me. Don't listen to James if he says anything strange about me, I feel perfectly fine._

_Sincerely, Your Son, _

_Albus_

He looked at the hastily penned note and grimaced. It didn't sound very convincing, but it was the best he could do.

"Take it to Mum and Dad," he told his owl, giving him an affectionate pat on the head. "Make sure they know I'm okay."

The owl hooted consolingly then flew out the open dormitory door towards the common room and away. Albus turned over in his bed and settled as comfortably as he could into the richly silk sheets colored emerald green. They felt cold, sleek and unpleasantly greasy, so much unlike his blankets at home and the absence of Orion was stifling. He wished _he _was the silently soaring bird, homeward bound.

He'd never felt so homesick in his life.

* * *

**A/n: **Oh dear… You have no idea how much I agonized over this chapter. I was absolutely at my wits end! For some reason I developed a block for this story and every time I went to go write some more on it, I ended up staring at the little cursor as it blinked at me, mocking me… But, I got it out didn't I? That's what's important. And let me tell you, it wasn't easy. (It also might not be as up to my other chapters either, but just leaving the story was no longer becoming an option.)

Because school has started again—ick, ick, ick!!—I've had almost zero amount of time to write and update. (I'm sure lots of you can sympathize with that.) This means that, even though I would love to spend hours and hours of time on my stories, I just simply can't. My apologies! But, I do promise that I _will _update. It just won't be as soon as you, or I, would like. –sigh-

And the world spins madly, madly on…

That's all for now. See you next update! And don't forget to review! (Yes, I'm talking to you, person who is about to just hit the back button. Review!!!) Haha.

-UndeniablyMe ;)


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